Work Text:
His arms are long and slender. Sharp, fragile, light. Pale skin stretched over thin bones and blue veins.
Pointed elbows prominent in relaxed muscles. Swaying against the yellowed bulbs, flowing through the air, gesturing so gracefully, as if there wasn't rush, or laws, or anything.
It's a spectacle, Ushijima thinks, and he wants to touch them so, so bad. Press his lips against the wrists and just leave them there. To feel all the calm and warm beats, to feel the thin, smooth skin, to finally understand everything. To become one with Tendou.
That has always beeing his desire, acttualy. Because there are always such angular looks and big smiles and lound laughs . There's always something and there's always Tendou and there's always, ALWAYS, that little voice saying he can't let go.
Tendou is like magic, like an addiction, a spell. It's never enough. Ushijima wants to touch and be touched, and love and be loved, and closer, closer, closer. He doesn't need Tendou to live, but he still wants him as if he does. What a greedy boy...
Tendou is such a fantastic creature and he's not even a big fan of fantasy. Tendou is like an enigma and Ushijima isn't any kind of detective. Tendou was called a monster, when he only saw the most angelic creature ever. Tendou's mind is full of colors and sounds and sensations, and Ushijima just wants to delve deeply into this totally new, but just as equal, world. There's something that pulls him like a magnet and he can't help himself.
And it's weird. Ushijima isn't a master of emotions and he knows it, but still. It's not like those Tendou's romance manga, or like the stories people usualy tell. There aren't "butterflies". (Which he honestly thinks is really good. A bug in his stomach would be very unpleasant, yes, maybe even hinder him in volleyball.)
It's more like a factual and obvious fact: he doesn't want to be separated from Tendou. It makes a lot of sense and it is what it is. Who wouldn't fall in love after listening to Tendou rattle excitedly about any news that makes him happy, after seeing his hair down in the mornings and hearing all his fears and secrets? It's an expected result.
One plus one is two, one day everyone will die, Ushijima loves Tendou. These are indisputable truths.
Then, again, Ushijima stares at the ceiling, watching Tendou's nimble hands waltz in sweet movements. Lying on the mattress beside him, he feels at home. Not satisfied because, someday, he will feel every pulse of those arms on his own skin, but at home.